


A Sense Of Soul

by madders



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 15:54:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madders/pseuds/madders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel's haunted in his dreams by Spike...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sense Of Soul

Angel felt uneasy as he lay in his bed at the Hyperion. He felt restless, as if he needed to crawl right out of his skin. Too long spent trapped in his metal coffin below the depths had left him drained and weak, yet he felt like he needed to move.

He sighed and closed his eyes, trying to rest and let his body regenerate, to regain his strength. But his demon was restless, demanding that he move. It was screaming at him that there was somewhere else he should be, something else he should be doing.

Images and emotions were returned to him; pain, sorrow, helplessness and desperation were mixed with flashes of caves, heat, bright lights and then sudden darkness. He scrunched his eyes closed tightly, trying to shut the images out, yet unable to as they were already indelibly stamped on his brain.

It had started sometime after he had been committed to the depths. He wasn’t sure how long it was, as time had meant nothing in a place with no light and dark to measure its passage. At first he had thought himself to be going mad, the disconnected feeling combined with the strong feelings seeming alien to him. But as time passed he began to realize that the emotions weren’t coming from him- rather from one of his childer; he just wasn’t sure which one.

Unbeknownst to the Watcher’s Council, Angel had sired several childer in his long unlife, always in the quest to find his perfect companion. And in each and every case he had been disappointed. He tried choosing people like Penn, a Puritan that he had taken great delight in corrupting, molding him into a mirror image of himself, but then growing tired of his lack of imagination. He had followed this by turning several others, only to find that each one of them was more disappointing than the last.

He’d had high hopes for Drusilla, such a naïve child with a great gift in her sight, yet the depths of madness he drove her to merely amused him for a short while before he became tired of her as well.

And then William had come along. Beautiful in body and spirit, yet meek and shy, Angelus had enjoyed taking him, yet had merely envisaged him as a nursemaid for Drusilla, who was too touched to ever be able to survive on her own.

How strange it was that it was this childe, the one he had neglected the most, who would prove to be his equal in all ways.

It had taken some time, and much getting over his disbelief before he finally acknowledged the truth. The childe calling out to him for the first time in more than one hundred years was William.

Angel sunk back in to the soft mattress, an unneeded breath falling from his lips. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was his snarky, hyperactive childe. He had neither the strength nor the patience for him now. Instead he closed his eyes and steadfastly ignored his demon, eventually falling into a restless sleep.

He awoke with a gasp barely an hour later, bolting upright in his bed and finding himself on his feet getting dresses before he even realized what he was even doing. Pulling on his duster and grabbing his keys he raced down to the garage, pulling out amidst a cloud of smoke and racing off into the night.

A sense of foreboding filled him, and despite his earlier protestations to his demon, he didn’t want to lose Spike entirely, which he knew he was about to do.

The dream had been graphic, much stronger than anything before it, and Angel knew that his childe was near. He finally allowed himself to mull over the images and emotions he had felt through the link, for the first time trying to work out the meanings behind it.

At first he had believed that the connection was only felt because, trapped as he was, he’d had nothing to distract him from the bond. But if this had been the case, surely he would have had a similar experience with his other surviving childer? Instead it had only been Will.

And then, as the connection between them grew stronger and the images and jumbled emotions became more vivid, Angel realized that Spike was drawing nearer to him, after being some fair distance away. This hadn’t made sense at first, because he had thought that Spike was in Sunnydale with Buffy, but a brief call to Xander in the car (because he hadn’t been able to reach Willow), had quickly given him more questions than he had answers for.

So it was with strong feelings of anger that Angel pulled to a stop above the sea, on top of a steep cliff. He could feel his childe below him on the beach. Approaching the cliff edge, Angel was able to clearly see Spike’s form on the beach, his painfully thin figure distinct from the pale sand around him. He watched as Spike sat staring out at the horizon, the only movement was the gentle raking of his fingers through the sand at his side.

Making his way down to the beach, Angel cursed as he tripped and stumbled down the steep incline, his still weak body unable to sustain the pace. Finally reaching the bottom, Angel moved up behind Spike, expecting a comment about his lack of stealth and balance. Therefore he was surprised when Spike didn’t even turn around.

Moving closer still, Angel was struck by just how gaunt Spike was, as well as the powerful emotions pouring from within. Without a word, Angel sat beside Spike, waiting for him to break down and talk, knowing that he was unable to stay silent for long. But as the minutes ticked by with no sign of awareness from Spike, the only response seemed to be an increase in the power of his emotions.

“Spike.” Angel half-growled, anger giving way to confusion and more than a little worry.

“Spike? What’s going on?” Angel asked, this time reaching out to touch Spike’s hand.

As soon as he made contact Spike reacted, pulling his hand away as if Angel’s touch had burned him, wrapping his arms protectively over his head and curling his body into an almost impossibly small ball.

What made Angel pause though wasn’t that, but the small whimper that Spike emitted. Spike hadn’t made a noise like that since before he was a fledgling, when he was still human.

Angel scented the fear pouring off of his childe, only increasing as time moved on. He was confused. What the hell had happened to his youngest to make him so scared?

Reaching out once more, Angel barely repressed his own flinch as Spike pulled away from him. Instead he moved slowly and surely, inching closer until he finally lay his hand on the top of Spike’s unruly mop of curls. Spike flinched violently, seemingly expecting Angel to hurt him with his touch.

Angel didn’t hurt him though, merely leaving his hand there until Spike relaxed fractionally, his tense muscles unwinding. Only then did Angel move again, pulling Spike gently into his arms and holding him close. Spike struggled against him, and for a moment Angel feared he would manage to break free, as Angel’s strength was far from his best at the moment. Yet Angel held him easily, having no problem stopping him.

He frowned as he felt the weakness stemming from the near starvation of his childe, the thin frame in his arms feeling like nothing more than skin and bones.

After a few minutes more, Spike stopped trying to get away and instead fell into the embrace, the thick tang of his tears discernible to Angel even over the salty sea air. Angel tightened his hold instinctively, purring softly to soothe his boy. He felt the link between them pulse, flaring with Spike’s essence; and then he knew.

Pulling back and gently urging Spike to look at him, Angel was shocked to see the glassy look of pain in his eyes. Sensing and seeing for himself was two different things, and Angel pressed a gentle kiss on Spike’s forehead before pulling him close.

“I gotcha my boy, I gotcha.”


End file.
